Meantime Genie trotted home with her comforting news for Dotty.
"Dolly's all right," she announced. "'Cept one leg is broked. But that's all. Only just one bone of one leg. And she says to see who'll get well first."
"How did she look?" asked Dotty eagerly.
"Like a angel," replied Genie, enthusiastically. "Her face was all white and her eyes were so blue and her hair was all goldy and braided in two curly braids tickling around her ears. Oh, she looked lovely! Heaps better than you do, Dot. Your face is all red and splotchy, and your eyes are as big as saucers and your hair looks like the dickens."
"I don't care," said Dotty, crossly; "I don't care how I look."
"But I care how you feel," said her mother, "and now you know that Dolly is very much alive, I'm sure you'll let nurse bathe your face and brush your hair and then I'm going to sing you to sleep."
As is usual in case of broken bones the first night proved a very trying time for all concerned.
Dolly Fayre, though an unusually patient child, felt as if she could not bear the pain and discomfort of her strapped and splinted leg. Her mother and Trudy, and her father too, did all they could to alleviate her sufferings, but the uncontrollable tears welled up in the blue eyes and rolled over the fevered cheeks of the little sufferer.
"I try to be good, Father," she said, as Mr. Fayre bent over her, "but it does hurt so awful."